The Imperfections
by Electric Muse
Summary: Sequel to Nigh Infernal. Brygida learns how to live without the ominous, penumbral presence of Rorschach, even though she refuses to forget him. But is he really gone for good...? Friendship fic: Rorschach and OC. Dan/Laurie romance. Chapter 6 up!
1. Wake Up

FINALLY back. God that took a while. Sorry, I was totally sidetracked. And I've kind of lost my deep and seemingly unending love for Rorschach. But mind you, this is a good thing! Now I can write something without being blinded by sappy romantic feelings, and I can look at the characters more like tools than my own personal fantasies.

Anyway, sorry fangirls, not a romance. I hope you like this anyway, though.

Enjoy!

**____________________________________**

**A falling sensation overcame them.**

**The taste of failure transcended the lives they knew.**

**And with nothing left to lose, they fell, and kept falling. **

**They fell for an eternity.**

**But even eternity ends.**

**The real story starts here.**

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Brygida's eyes opened slowly, the sudden blur of color and light overtaking her senses as she brought her arms up to shield her eyes. But light still shined through the space where one of her arms should have been. She sat up, finally noticing the softness of the bed that she was in... And that it wasn't her bed. She was in a large, purple room with gold and flowers and... She wasn't at home.

Sighing, she lifted up her hand to wipe the morning tears from her eyes...

But the hand never came. She looked at her right arm...

~*~*~

A manservant that was up early every morning jolted violently when an uncommon noise came from the room of Adrian's coma patient. The noise was horrifyingly blood curdling; a scream of disgust and horror. He rushed in, and saw the coma girl dry gagging over the side of her bed, her entire body shaking. Her stump of an arm was up in the air, as if she were trying to avoid it.

"Miss..." He said, walking towards her.

"Where's my arm?!" She cried, "I want my arm back! I—" She felt another wave of nausea crash over her as her body attempted to throw up food that wasn't in her stomach. The manservant ran out of the room. All of the staff at Karnak were instructed to get Adrian Veidt as soon as the girl woke up, no questions asked. The man just hoped that Mr. Veidt would be forgiving at 4:57 in the morning.

Brygida gasped for air, a line of spit hanging from her lip as she spat the stomach acid from her mouth and took deep breaths. She didn't want to look at her right side. From what she had seen, she had lost her arm up to the elbow. There was a bandage wrapped around it, but it wasn't bloody. It looked clean and new. She instead took to looking around the room. Her eyes suddenly snapped to the door as it opened and closed, none other than Adrian Veidt walking through. Without thinking, the girl picked up the closest thing and threw it at him. But she was a terrible shot with her left arm, and the man ended up catching it before it crashed to the floor. It was a picture of her and her mother...

"What do you want from me?" Brygida said, thinking him a horrible man as she clutched the bed sheets tightly in the hand she had left.

Adrian sat by her bedside and looked her over, studied her. She felt like a lab rat from the way he stared at her. When he moved to touch her, she slapped his hand away and got out of the bed to stand up. But that failed. Her left side was heavier than her right now, and she ended up falling over herself as she tried to stand. But Adrian caught her on the way down and hauled her back into bed.

"I want you..." He said, voice like all the chords of silk in the world, "To calm down. And to think about what you do before you do it, Miss Brygida..."

"H-how do you know my name?" Kind of a stupid question, but she wasn't thinking very hard. She felt completely violated by this man's stare; his voice slipped too easily into her ears and through her mind.

"After you passed out a month ago in Karnak, Daniel and Laurie helped me with you and your arm... Daniel did not want me to keep you here, but after some _compromise_ and after we got you stable, he agreed to leave you... And I've been spending that time finding out who you were." He smiled slightly, "Your mother has easily taken up residence in Karnak. She has been waiting for you to wake up as well."

Brygida's eyes glistened, "My mom's still alive...?"

"And more. But before you see her, I must talk with you..."

"Please let me see my mother... I'll answer anything you want if I can see her..." Brygida pleaded with a trembling voice; she couldn't stop her bottom lip from quivering.

Adrian stopped for a moment to contemplate the possibilities of what may happen... And he nodded, getting up from the bedside, "Alright. But no one else is allowed in."

Brygida nodded feverishly, "Who would want to come in?"

He smiled, bowed his head slightly, and closed the door behind him. Brygida bunched the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. She unwittingly searched through her memories, and came upon the night that she had gone to the Antarctic with Daniel and... Rorschach.

She remembered feeling off balance, and seeing the blood in the snow... But it was _her_ blood. Rorschach was simply gone... Except for the hat that had fallen in the snow. She hadn't paid any attention to it, but upon thinking back, she remembered that it had fluttered in the wind for a moment before falling to the snow in her blood... And her arm hadn't been there. If Jon had ended up tearing it off, which was most likely the case, where was it? She tried her hardest to keep her mind off of the fact that _he_ was dead...

The door swung open and Brygida's mother in all her colorful, flowing garb strode through the room and threw her arms about her daughter's neck, eyes already filled with tears. Brygida wrapped her arm around her mother and cried as well. It was the one of the two reunions that she had hoped for...

"Oh how I missed you, moja kotku..." Rasia murmured into her child's hair.

"You haven't called me that since I was a kid, momma..." Brygida replied, hugging her mother as tightly as she could with only one arm.

"You'll always be my kitten, Brygida..." She got up with some difficulty, forcing herself to let go of the daughter she thought that she had lost. Turning to Adrian at the door, she nodded, and kissed her daughter on the forehead before exiting. Adrian once again returned to the girl's bedside after locking the door.

"Now..." Adrian said, pulling the covers up to the girl's chin, "In order to keep the peace that has finally come to this world, I must either entrust you with the secret that has been forced onto you by Daniel's stupidity and _heroism_... Or kill you."

Brygida jolted, but before she could respond, Adrian continued, "But I don't want to have to kill you. If Daniel trusts you, then I have faith that you will not betray _m_y trust."

"Oh of course not..." Brygida breathed, "I would never..."

"I know that you had... _sympathies_ toward our dearly departed Rorschach." Adrian intervened, "Now, I'm not sure if that means that you agreed with his outlook on the subject of justice, and right and wrong, or if you just thought him entertaining..."

Adrian discontinued talking about the masked hero when he saw the girl drag her legs to her chest, "How did you feel towards him...?"

"I... He was my friend... He _is_ my friend..." She fixed her statement, and Adrian didn't correct her. She was obviously in a lot of physical and mental pain, and he didn't want to break her down to bits and pieces because of someone that didn't need to be talked about.

He stood up, "Since I suspect you'll be staying here a while, would you like a tour?"

"No. I don't want to stay here." Brygida replied; half savage, half broken.

"But your mother—"

"All I needed to know was that she was okay... And she's fine. She looks happier then she's been for my entire life, thanks to you. I don't need to be around her just so that I can see her break down about my dad... I don't need someone who lost everything, I need someone who has rebuilt..." She looked up at him, "I need Daniel and Laurie..."

"I will contact them as soon as possible."

"... Thank you..." Brygida struggled with those words, and they came out in an awkward mumble.

"One more thing..." She felt his eyes scan her face, and she flinched slightly as he continued, "I had known Rorschach for a long time, and _never_ have I seen him hide the truth from anyone... If it were anyone else, even Daniel, he would have told them about what had happened. He doesn't hide anything. But... He didn't answer you when you entered the television room and asked about what had happened to New York. He hid something crucial from you, in order to save you the pain... Just how close were you two?"

"..." Brygida didn't know how to answer the question. The fact that he had died hadn't even sunken in yet. She was hoping that he would walk into the room, completely fine, tell her that she shouldn't have touched him...

Adrian stood up, "I see... I'm not sure if you were lucky or unlucky. Getting that close to a man like Rorschach is dangerous... And enlightening. You must have learned a lot about yourself. Am I right?"

"... Yes..."

"Then his death was not in vain if he influenced someone so much that they lost an arm for him." And he exited the room.

Brygida curled in on herself and cried until the clock beside her bed struck 9 AM, when she had finally passed out again from exhaustion...

__________________________________________________________________________________

He wasn't floating like he had expected to be. There was no bright light at the end of a long tunnel. No pearly gates. No hellfire. In fact, it was epitome of neutrality. He laid on his back; the ground was hard, earthy. Smelled like... Well actually, it smelled like nothing. His senses were useless where he was. It was as if he were caught in a mousetrap, forever waiting for the cat to come around to snatch him up as its prey. But he knew that cat would never come.

He still regretted nothing. Even if he was going to be stuck in such a monotonous place for the rest of existence, he didn't mind. Everything ended, eventually. And then his consciousness would be tossed into nothingness, and he would finally be free. At least, that was what he believed.

Perhaps he was in Limbo, awaiting his punishment, or reward. He didn't care to know how the Gods worked, if there were any. If there were Gods, he could imagine them letting the humans loose against each other, and then shaking their heads at their failures, thinking that perhaps, they could try again next time.

Even though it always had the same result.

There was war, and suffering, and hatred. And above all else, there was the love that bred all these things. The cursed love that was a plague disguised as a blessing. The original wolf in sheep's clothing.

The only sense he seemed to have left was his sight. And as he willed his eyes to open, he was suddenly overcome by the blinding brilliance of a sky filled with stars. He shut his eyes again, and then reopened them after a moment of recuperation. He felt his jaw slacken slightly. No sky was ever that _full_ in his entire life. Every single star in that sky was brighter than any of the stars that he had witnessed. City life had blocked out any kind of connection with the stars, and now, he finally...

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He heard a voice behind him.

'_God?'_ He wondered as he turned around...

But it was Jon that stood behind him. A sudden wave of anxiety and confusion washed over him. The blue man walked up next to him, his hands locked behind his back as he stared up at the sky, "We are underneath what you humans would label as a Milky Way. But we are much too far from humans to call it such a thing..."

"... Am I dead?" The man asked, standing up.

Jon looked at him, and his lips curved up, "No. I am sorry for your confusion Rorschach, but do not worry. All will be explained soon enough."

"Why not tell me now?" Rorschach asked, his eyes on the sky.

"Because when you are captured in the beauty of the universe, words become meaningless, abstractions of feelings. Right now all we need to do is feel... Feel how good it is to breath in the stardust that created us..."

Rorschach looked at Jon and noticed that this was the first time he had ever seen the man-god in a comfortable situation. A slight smile lingered on his lips. He was at home among the stars... Perhaps Rorschach would try to do the same.

He was alive. Disappointed, but alive.

And for the moment, he didn't notice the dismembered arm at his foot.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Brygida spent the day that she was to leave Karnak attempting to walk. She still hadn't gotten the hang of the physical imbalance, and it was really frustrating her. She wore a long sleeved purple tunic that went down to her mid thighs, and black leggings underneath. But even though her stumped arm wasn't showing, people still stared at her. Karnak had long since flourished with life, and even in the short month that she was out it was obvious that people had changed. Most of their eyes weren't judgmental or prejudicial, simply curious. But the innocent looks of the younger people made Brygida feel irritated, and she would rather they be judgmental and have a pre-determined idea of her rather than have them examine her over a length of time. She just didn't enjoy being analyzed.

Her mother walked with her every step of the way, catching her before she fell most of the times. Two percent of the time she missed, and Brygida toppled to the floor. Before the accident, she was right handed. Her left-handed abilities were limited and basic; she doubted that she would be able to pick up a pen for years. But she hoped that wouldn't be the case.

"Come on, darling..." Rasia cooed, "Let's get back to your room, we have to prepare you for your journey..."

"I'm not going on some epic quest, Ma..." Brygida replied, stumbling into a wall. She groaned and pushed herself off, stabilizing herself by landing her legs further apart. She sighed, "Alright, let's go..."

Her mother helped her pack as she sat on the bed, cross-legged and spacing out. She wasn't even paying attention to what her mother was putting in the suitcase; she didn't care. Who _would_ care with a stumpy arm? She had looked in the mirror once for the entire time that she had been awake in Karnak, and she hated what she saw. She had lost a lot of weight after living off of IVs for a month. She missed the color in her cheeks, and the little outward curve that her belly made. She felt brittle, fragile. She didn't like it.

"As soon as I get out of here, momma..." She whispered, "I'm going to eat until I burst..."

Rasia laughed, "And I think you deserve at least that much." The woman closed the suitcase and kissed her child on both cheeks, "Tell Laurel and Daniel that I say hello, and to take good care of you."

"I'm sure they will... And their names are Sam and Sandra Hollis now. Remember?"

"Oh, of course. Silly me, I've been forgetting more and more lately, I'm sorry sweetheart." She chuckled to herself, "Come and visit some time, won't you?"

"I'll try..."

Brygida entered into the Karnak Dirigible Hanger as her bags were being loaded onto the airship. Adrian came and handed her her passport.

"Remember, you are not Brygida anymore." He said calmly, leading her by the shoulders into the airship, "If anyone calls you anything other than Magdalena Veidt, do not respond. Brygida is dead."

"I know." She replied, pulling away from him. Her mother and Adrian had come up with an alias for her, because technically, Brygida was still a wanted fugitive. But now that she was Brygida no longer, and Brygida still had two arms according to the government, she was now Magdalena. And Magdalena was Adrian's adopted daughter. She didn't exactly have a choice, since all of the paperwork was already in. She hugged her mother one last time before entering into the dirigible and taking her seat.

She unzipped her suitcase, looking through everything that her mother had given her. She didn't mind most of it, some of it was much too colorful for her tastes. She would just give it away or sell it once she got back to New York... She noticed something at the very bottom of her suitcase. Something that she had never imagined that she would see again.

Rorschach's hat. She yanked it out, setting her suitcase on the seat next to her. They had washed the hat, but it still looked dirty. Most likely they wanted to wash it only in order to get rid of the smell that Rorschach _always_ seemed to leave behind. The girl smiled slightly, hugging the hat to her chest as she stared out the window. She would bring it to Daniel, and maybe she would finally have someone that understood her pain...

No. He felt worse than her, she knew it. It was comforting to know that there was someone else who cared...

Magdalena Veidt stared out the window, and for the first time, put her fingers to her stumpy arm... And she felt smooth skin. It was normal. _She_ was normal. She laughed, putting the hat on her head and smiling more than she had in the entire time she was awake.

Everything would be alright... With Rorschach, or without him.


	2. Books and Breakdowns

These next few chapters are going to be slightly shorter than most. You'll see why once you read them ;P

Enjoy~!

_**Chapter 2**_

_**Books and Breakdowns**_

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Magdalena shivered and coughed, feeling her throat contract as she gagged and subsequently threw up over the side of the plush couch into a bucket. Sandra Hollis drew a thick knit blanket over the girl's body, cooing sweet nothings as she stroked her head. She had come down with a fever after overexerting herself to help move everything into the new home. Sandra was thankful that they had a comfortable apartment to stay in, compared to the motel room they had been living out of previously. She and Sam had saved enough money for the apartment they had been looking at, and they finally moved in.

Sam Hollis was out at the moment, most likely finding more odd jobs. Sandra was unemployed, but she planned on looking for something to do after Magdalena got better. She had found it strange to call her little cousin such a thing; she thought it was an ugly name. But there was nothing that they could do. After the girl had gotten over her shivering fit and focused on the soup in front of her, Sandra looked at the papers, and the headline read:

**March 2nd, 1986.**

**Veidt Gardens: Not Just a Dream**

Sandra chuckled, opening the newspaper to a story about a young girl who had learned how to walk with prosthetic legs. The paper was considerably thinner, now that there wasn't so much murder and mayhem. The Obituaries were gone; they didn't report who had died in the normal paper anymore. There was an entire newspaper dedicated to the dead.

"What's the headline say?" Magdalena croaked, peeking her blotchy red face out from under the blanket.

"I don't think the talk of a city wide community garden is just mushy political talk anymore..." She opened the paper for Magdalena to see. There was a huge picture of Adrian Veidt standing in front of the construction zone that would soon be Veidt Gardens. In his quote, he said that he and his company would strive to create a massive garden that would both give people a plot of land for food and revenue, and bring them together as a loving community. His smile was small, formal, and charming. There were some girls in the corner being held back by some of Veidt's men. Magdalena almost laughed. She very much disliked him, and he was more interested in her then he was in those girls, obviously.

There was a knock on the door.

Sandra stood up, folded the newspaper, and answered the door. She smiled slightly, "Hello Mischa, I suppose you've come over for Magdalena?"

The little Russian girl nodded, her short, black braids bounding slightly, "Ja, tank you." She waddled inside, carrying a bowl of something that smelled heavenly. She sat next to the almond haired girl on the couch and smiled, "'Allo Maggie."

Magdalena coughed and smiled, "Hi Mischa..."

"My grant-mudder told me to bring you dis for your sickness." She placed the bowl on the table and stood up, "I will be wishink to see you when you get better."

Magdalena looked confused, "You won't be staying...?"

"No. Haff bad immunity system. But will see you when your sickness has gone." She smiled; her pretty little dimples made her smile all the more jovial. Mischa was a heavyset Russian woman with large, chocolate eyes and crooked teeth. Two of her brothers had died in the explosion. She, her mother, father, and remaining siblings, a brother and a sister, had moved to the United States. Many Russians had moved to the states, and many Americans had moved to Russia. The two countries had become extremely close since they were the only two states to have been dealt more than one blow; Los Angeles and New York for the US, and Moscow and St. Petersburg for Russia.

Mischa curtsied to Sandra and scampered out of the room. Magdalena took the aluminum foil off the top of the bowl, and shuddered as a fantastically rich odor filled her sinuses. She discarded the half finished bowl of canned chicken noodle and indulged herself in the homemade beef soup. Sandra knew that there was no reaching Magdalena when she was eating, so she continued to read the paper, despite the fact that there was nothing...

"Oh, Maggie, here's another one of those articles..." She waved her hand in front of her cousin's face, "It's another excerpt from Rorschach's jour—"

The feverish girl snatched the piece of newspaper from Sandra's hand, slightly ripping the whole of the thing. Someone of the New York Times had found Rorschach's journal in a trashcan outside of the New Frontiersman printing press, and had taken it upon themselves to thoroughly exploit it. The journal was in the funny papers, titled **"Rorschach's Ramblings". **Doctors and psychologists of all kinds had analyzed the journal and deemed Rorschach schizophrenic.

Magdalena had been collecting the parts of the journal. She knew that they didn't put most of it out; each excerpt was about a paragraph long, and ridiculously out of context. After reading some of the excerpts together, she had found that it was full of amazing and horrific imagery and thoughts, and she yearned to read the actual journal. She just hoped that when she started making some money, it would still be there in its entirety for her to buy. She read the beginning of it, the date... October 12th, 1985. She knew him then. He was aware of the fact that she existed.

_Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face..._

She could hear Marja beside her, fawning over how beautiful his writing was, how blunt and real he was, how gorgeous he must have been...

Magdalena's eyes squeezed shut as she let out a small, lamenting mewl, crunching the paper in her fist as tears dripped into the bowl of beef soup. It was almost as if it had happened yesterday. She hadn't cried for a week, but this was the first journal entry that she could really relate to. It was the beginning of knowing Rorschach, and at the same time, the end of his life. She didn't want to collect any of the entries after that. Sandra patted the girl's head and walked out of the room. She knew that she would want to be alone for a while.

Magdalena stood up to throw away the piece of newspaper, but her vision blurred and her legs gave out on her. Unfortunately, she fell to her right, and landed right on her stumpy arm. She almost bit clean through her lip as she felt a jolt of pain run up her bone.

She gasped wetly, and mumbled, "Fuck... I'm useless..." She curled up into a ball, crying and whimpering; her nose red and runny, lips cracked and dry...

That was the first time that she wanted to die. She felt so beyond help. She couldn't write, she couldn't sing, she couldn't find anything to live for... Maybe the Greeks had it right. If she killed herself, she could go to Hades and find Walter and Marja and Michelle... And she could try to have a better relationship with her father. And she could stay there with them, wait for her mother and Dan and Laurie to live out their lives, and then they would be together forever...

But of course, she never tried to kill herself. She thought up all the different ways to do it. She could throw herself into the new gardens, but that wouldn't be very good, and everyone would be trying that. There were always the basics. Like pills, slitting your wrists, and asphyxiation. But she was too terrified; they all made her think of hospitals. Besides, the wrist slitting wouldn't work very well, since she only had one wrist left.

"Oh god..." She croaked, not wanting to look at her stumpy arm. She could feel it bleeding; the bone had poked out of her skin. It was an ugly, wet feeling that made her want to gag even more. She hadn't had a shower in at least a week, and the shower in the new apartment wasn't working yet.

So she stood up, more slowly this time, and sat on the couch, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths as the door to the apartment opened and closed, and Sam walked in. She laid down on the couch and pretended to be asleep as she heard footsteps coming from the Sam and Sandra's shared room.

And in hushed voices she could hear them talking about how to help her.

____________________________________________________

Rorschach stared at the dismembered arm as he sat cross-legged in front of it. He knew whose it was; he had seen it a lot just before the departure to... wherever he was. He still didn't understand why she would be so weepy over him; lose her arm over him. The fingers were small, dainty, feminine. He couldn't help but compare them to his mother's, which were longer, but pudgier. He remembered them dragging across his face on occasion, her overly manicured nails too thick and blunt to really catch his skin. But it bruised pretty well. And then he remembered Brygida's fingers on his skin. He wasn't accustomed to affectionate touches, but he knew that both her fingers and the look on her face were more caring than anything his mother had done for him.

He saw himself in her eyes, and didn't look away.

The arm was slightly collapsed since all the blood had spilled out. He moved one of the fingers and felt no resistance. And so he crept his fingers in between—

"She really liked you." Jon's words snapped him out of his reverie as he dropped the arm and stood up to face the blue demi-god.

"Couldn't tell." He lied.

"I don't know if she's still alive." Jon replied, "I teleported her to Daniel and Laurie, but beyond that, I have no idea." That same lugubrious smile slid onto his lips, "I can't see the future anymore... It is a wonderful feeling."

"Why can't you see the future?"

"This universe that I've teleported us to has a vast amount of scattered tachyon clouds... I'm powerless, in that regard at least." He crossed his arms, "A comforting thought."

Rorschach, slightly less than interested, interjected with, "Why bring me here?"

Jon looked down at him with his Mona Lisa smile, "You can attribute your transportation here, to Laurie. She opened my eyes... And perhaps, I do not know as much about the universe as I would like to think. My mind does not... comprehend strong feelings as much as normal human brains do. And you, Rorschach, as much as you like to hide it, feel more strongly than most people do in the world. Your friend, and my friend, Brygida, she was always an indecisive person. She never really had anything to believe in. But I saw in that look that she gave you just before I brought you here... She had decided that she wanted to be a part of your life. And she was. For the next 1.53 seconds. And perhaps she still wants to be a part of your life, if she herself is still alive."

Rorschach didn't reply. He thought of Brygida, and of Laurie, and of Daniel... He didn't know how much time had passed, but perhaps that didn't matter anymore. For all he knew, they could all have been killed by the storms of Antarctica, murdered by Veidt's men, killed themselves out of grief. It was not a pleasant thought.

"Brought me here for your own entertainment?" The redhead growled, "Selfish."

But still the smile remained, "For all the time that I have been Dr. Manhattan, I have never been selfish. I have served the country that destroyed Jon Osterman and inadvertently created me. I have served it without qualms, without dreams, without goals of my own. I would like a dream. Even a nightmare would do me well. But I am incapable. So yes. I am selfish, because I would like a chance to create a dream of my own. Will you help me, Rorschach?"

"... Yes."

______________________________________________________

The familiar bandage on Magdalena's arm was removed sooner than she had expected. After Sandra had found her sobbing and bleeding on he couch, she ran both of them to the makeshift hospital that the city had set up in a library just outside the radius of the explosion. She dropped her off there, and told the girl that she would visit everyday, but Magdalena told her not to. Said that she wanted to be alone for the week or so that she would have to stay at the hospital. Sandra was both worried and glad that they got some time away from each other. Though they loved each other dearly, there was always the chance of being completely fed up with one another within a small amount of time.

So while Sandra spent well-deserved alone time with Sam in their new apartment, Magdalena indulged herself in the books that the library-hospital had to offer. They had to get rid of a couple sections, mostly politics and self-help books since no one wanted any of those anyway. But Magdalena was holed up in the fiction section, and she found her reason to live again. The fictional characters in the books gave her solace; she wasn't the only one suffering anymore. The doctors and nurses kept the patients pretty spread out, since for the first time in history, there didn't seem to be many. So Magdalena was alone for a good long time. When the attendings asked her how she lost her arm, she just said Explosion, and they understood. Or at least, they thought they understood. But small talk was always good between doctors and patients.

She soon got over her fever and fear, and decided that she wanted to return to Sandra and Sam... To help them with their lives instead of being a burden.

It was 1986, and Brygida, now known as Magdalena Veidt, was alive again.


	3. O Mother, Where Art Thou?

_**Chapter 3**_

_**O Mother, Where Art Thou?**_

_**_______________________________________________________________**_

Sam Hollis and Magdalena Veidt waited patiently in the hospital waiting room on April 19th, 1988. The doctors said that Miss Sandra Hollis was having some birthing problems, and that they would have to wait. The two of them had previously been in the room with Sandra, and she had been laughing at each contraction; beautiful, glistening tears rolling down her cheeks as she told the two of them:

"I'm having a baby..."

She was so proud of herself. She had been wanting to have a child for the longest time; she wanted to love her child in a way that her mother never loved her. She wanted to love that baby for who it was, she wanted it to aim for it's own goals, create it's own dreams. And she wanted to be there to watch. Whether the child be gay, straight, radical, liberal, traditional, experimental, on drugs, straightedge, smart, dumb, ugly, beautiful...

She was so glad that she was going to be a mother.

But then she stopped laughing. And she started to bleed. The doctors first told Magdalena to leave, so she left. Sam soon joined her. His platinum blond hair was matted to his face with sweat, and the heavy five o'clock shadow made him look older than he really was.

Magdalena took Sam's hand in hers and said, "It's going to be alright..."

And he broke down crying.

"I can't lose her, Lena..." He whispered through his blond whiskers, "I can't... I... I love her so much, what would I do if she...?"

Magdalena took his face into her left hand and made him look at her. He looked so sad, so pathetic, and so different from the Nite Owl that she knew...

"Dan..." She said softly, and his eyes snapped open, "You and Laurie... You two are stronger than this. She will live, and you will live, and you're going to have a baby. God damn it Dan you can't just break down! She's in a lot more pain than you are right now, and you've got to be her _backbone_, because she's using all she's got to keep that baby. And you have to be here to take care of her."

The blond wiped the sweat beads from his forehead and took a couple deep breaths. He smiled a little, "We're having a baby..."

Magdalena smiled and hugged him, "You two are going to be fine..."

And they were. Sam and Magdalena were let in after an hour, and walked in as a couple of nurse's assistants were cleaning up all the blood. And Sandra was holding her baby, the umbilical chord still attached. She smiled wearily at Sam and Magdalena, but she looked beautiful. She was shimmering with dewdrops of sweat and tears, her hair was soaked and Magdalena could see her brown roots starting to grow back in.

"Would you like to cut the chord, my love?" She said hoarsely, motioning to the rope of flesh that attached her and her baby. Sam laughed happily and nodded, kissing his love's forehead and then taking the surgical scissors from the doctor's hand. He snipped the chord and asked Sandra if she wanted him to eat the placenta. Sandra gagged playfully and shook her head, smiling. The lovers smiled and kissed each other's sweat drenched lips.

And Magdalena was endlessly happy for them.

"Lena..." Sandra said, "Come meet your little nephew, Milo Hollis..."

______________________________________________

Rorschach never got tired of watching the stars. He traced pictures, told stories, and gave reasons behind each one's existence. He used to read Greek myths about why the stars were there when he was younger, he would bury himself in them. One particular story that he hated was that of Oedipus, though he read it through a good three times before he left it alone. Parents abandon their child because of a prophecy; the child comes back as a grown up, kills the father, and marries and has kids with the mother. When he finds out, he gouges his eyes out and the mother hangs herself. The children are disgraced. Everything falls apart. Oedipus never had a constellation, so Rorschach gives him one. He gives him one right next to the constellation of the Blind Justice statue constellation, scratching his eyes out with a pin.

'_Fitting.'_ Rorschach thought, drawing out the placement of the new constellation into the journal Jon had created for him. Nearby, the blue man was fiddling with the dirt on the strange planet that they inhabited, alone. He had said that the dirt had an unusually high carbon content, which would be good for creating living beings.

"Rorschach." Jon said, watching a clod of dirt take the form of a puppy and hop around like a rabbit, "What is a child?"

The masked man looked up from his drawings. Dr. Manhattan looked almost like a child himself as the dirt clod bounced for a couple more seconds before dipping into the earth and coming back up as a flower.

"Blank sheet of paper." Rorschach answered, "Hasn't been tainted by stress and temptation and unhealthy worries."

"Was that how you were?"

"... No. Was never innocent. Mother was a whore, came out dirty." He answered, accidently tearing the piece of paper with the stick of graphite.

"... I did not know that." Jon stated matter of factly, "I am sorry."

"... Hurm." Rorschach was about to return to his drawings, but Jon interrupted him with a question that he had never been asked.

"Could you tell me about her?"

The man in the mask sat there for a moment. He wasn't try to think of what to say. He knew what he would say. His mother just wasn't someone that he had ever talked about. The people at the children's home he had lived at made it their policy to never talk about abusive parents. And once he was out, no one cared about where he had come from, who he had come from. They just wanted him to work. And after that...

Well, no one except Daniel cared what he did after that.

"She was fat." He answered, "Indulgent woman. Didn't know how to do anything other than fornicate. Killed by her lifestyle."

"Did she love you?"

"... Who knows."

__________________________________________________________

Magdalena got the cheapest prosthetic arm that she could so that she could hold the baby. It made Sandra happy that she could leave Milo with the younger girl and go out to do things with Sam. The baby was 6 months old by then, and already gurgling and happy. Milo was the best thing that happened to all three of them. Sam had already started spoiling him rotten, spending all his free money on fancy teething toys and gourmet baby food, even though the baby wouldn't be consuming anything other than breast milk for another month or so. Sandra loved him with all her heart, and she was still adamant on singing him lullabies to go to sleep, even though he had started nodding off before she started singing.

And for Magdalena, he was the sibling that she had always wanted. She was 21 now, and it was kind of late for a dream like that to come true, but better late than never. While Sam and Sandra were out, she liked to play one-handed peek a boo with Milo. He loved to play with her recycled plastic prosthetic arm. He would insist on teething on the fingers rather than the shiny, colorful toys that his dad bought him. Magdalena's Russian friend, Mischa, really scared him though. She was a very large and imposing person. He was used to the thin, small faces of his parents and Magdalena, and whenever Mischa came by, he would start crying.

Magdalena met Mischa when she and the two lovers were living in the terrible motel room. The Russian woman and her family had taken then under their wing and given them food, blankets and free cable. Mischa and Magdalena had become fast friends, and the latter ended up teaching the former a lot of the English language, and visa versa. Russian culture was becoming a large part of New York, and no one disagreed with it. The food, the people and the artwork were wonderful, and no one had any idea that it was so until the explosions.

The door of the apartment opened and the baby Milo looked up from and squealed with laughter when he saw his mother, soaking wet. She looked exhausted, but overjoyed to see her baby.

"How is he?" She asked, taking off her raincoat and picking up her little boy, who proceeded to gurgle baby talk and pull at her short, blond hair.

"He sounds pretty close to a first word, actually." Magdalena replied, picking up her prosthetic arm and throwing it into the sink. It was covered in baby drool, and she decided that she would keep it off for the rest of the day.

"I knew he'd be a smart boy." She cooed more to him than to her.

Magdalena smiled and left the room. She walked onto the balcony, where she could feel the rain and see the huge crater in the middle of New York. It was almost done. They had worked on it for a good two years, and the one in New York was going to be the first to be finished. The garden in Los Angeles would be next, and then the one in Moscow and so on. She was excited. But as she felt raindrops slip down her lips, she also felt lonely. Watching Sam and Sandra, how in love they were and what they had... It was enviable. And Magdalena wanted that as well. She wanted someone to love, someone whose company she could enjoy unconditionally. But she knew for a fact; not many men seemed to go for the one-armed look. Even in those times, revulsion was not uncommon. The veterans and scarred from the explosions were accepted, but kept at a distance.

Sandra interrupted Magdalena's thoughts when she tapped her shoulder, "Phone call for you."

"Who is it?" She answered. She didn't like talking on the phone, so if she could keep from doing then...

"It's Adrian."

_______________________________________________________

Rorschach watched Jon as he made his first attempt at creating a human. He had first cut a block from the land, and set it in front of himself. He said that he wanted to visualize the being in the block, like Michelangelo did with his blocks of marble. He saw his child in the block of land, but he didn't do anything yet. He was unsure of how to make the child feel, emotionally. He could create a body, could give the child a brain and a heart, but all the knowledge of brainwaves and cells couldn't give his child feeling.

"How do you make a person feel, Rorschach?" He asked, continuing to stare at the land.

"Give them something to love." The inkblots shifted lazily on the white mask, "Take it away. Make them sad."

"... What if they do not love anything?"

Rorschach looked at the blue man, "... All creatures love freedom. Create your child. Let it loose. See what happens."

The blue man stared at Rorschach, "I never enjoyed being experimented on. Why would I do that to my own creation?"

"No success without experimentation. First tries never do well. Must be willing to sacrifice if you wish for perfection." _Even though you'll never get it..._

Dr. Manhattan's eyes lingered on Rorschach for a moment longer, before he turned his head back towards the block of earth. It began to melt away, and Rorschach jumped slightly as a small foot stepped from the muck. A dirt colored, naked little girl stood there with eyes like stars. She had thin, crackling hair like dried grass and her creator's blank expression.

She looked at Rorschach, who was surprised and... slightly frightened of the earth child. He didn't know what she was capable of. She didn't know him, wouldn't have any qualms with killing him. But the blank expression melted into curiosity and wonder as she looked around, bending back so far that she almost fell over herself.

"Should I name her?" Jon asked, watching the little girl feeling her own skin and make delighted squawking noises.

"Naming her would attach you to her." Rorschach replied frankly, "Depends on what you want."

"... Her name is Carbon-12." The blue man said, as Carbon-12 walked towards the two of them. The little girl snapped her mouth at the light that was coming off of Jon, perhaps attempting to eat it. She touched him and squealed like a pig, wrapping her arms around his leg and licking it. She paused for a moment... And then spat feverishly, like she had tasted something bitter and powerful. She then looked at Rorschach, who tensed up. She crawled towards him on all fours, her tongue lolling out of her mouth like a starved animal. Rorschach scooted back slightly as the girl rubbed up against him, her back arching like a cat's. She purred and mewled, clearly enjoying the man's obvious fear.

"Carbon-12." Jon said, and the girl perked, "Go play."

She stood up on two feet and replied in a high, squeaking voice, "Okay." And she ran off. She kept running until she disappeared over the horizon.

"... You have some work to do." Rorschach growled, "That was far from normal human... behavior."

"I will wait for Carbon-12 to return." Jon said, standing up, "And see how she interacted with the world." He looked at Rorschach, "You did not like her?"

The redhead just grumbled and returned to his papers, which by now were filled with not only constellations, but mindless scribbles and deeper thoughts on the meaning of the universe and whatnot as well. In the corner of one of the pages, there were a few names written in an indecipherable handwriting. Rorschach hadn't necessarily noticed that they were there for a while, but when he did, he scratched them out. He wondered if he had written them down unconsciously...

_____________________________________________________________

And yet again, Magdalena found herself in Karnak. She didn't even know how Adrian Veidt managed to do it, but that smooth voice and those slick words tricked her onto a plane to Karnak. He met her there in person, with paparazzi and fans a' plenty. Veidt's bodyguards had to hurry her into the limo, lest she get trampled by fangirls. Karnak had become unnaturally populated.

"Mr. Veidt-" Magdalena said, but she was cut off.

"My darling," The blond man said cloyingly with an angelic smile, "Call me Adrian, really. You are here as my adoptive daughter and honoured guest, not one of those stuffy old rich men." There was a slight pleading glint in his eyes, "So please, call me Adrian."

Magdalena stared at the man, her lips slightly parted, "... Alright. Adrian, why do you want me back here, again? I'm afraid I lost track of our conversation after you... started talking."

The man chuckled to himself, "I am aware of your current situation, Magdalena." Her fake name sounded halfway decent when he said it, "And though I know that you love our dear crime fighting lovers, you need something to do other than trailing behind them in a desperate attempt to have a life."

"Geez, low blow..." She muttered, staring out the window.

"And I have a remedy to your situation."

"Do you now?" She drawled, "So far all you've pointed out is how pathetic I really am..."

"I got you a tutor to help you learn how to do things with your left hand."

She perked at this, "Oh... Well that would be fantastic! And I'd be staying at Karnak...? Is my mother still here?"

He smiled his small, formal smile at this, "Yes you would be staying at Karnak. And I'm afraid your mother moved to California after you left. She is my... Californian Liaison, if you will."

"Is she happy?"

"I believe so. She hasn't tried to contact you?"

Magdalena shook her head, her rivulets of hair waving about her head, "She gets really into her work. I remember when I was younger; I would have to make my own food all the time because she would always be doing something. I know that doesn't seem like much, but I never really had a decent home cooked meal..." She smiled a little, "That doesn't make me resent my mother, mind you."

Adrian simply smiled again as they came upon the Karnak compound, which had grown quite a bit within the time that she had been gone. It was now all along the cliff, engulfing almost three times as much space as it had previously. Adrian draped a synthetic animal fur jacket around Magdalena's shoulders and walked her inside. She shivered slightly as the blast of cold air hit her and disappeared in almost the same instant. The huge foyer was buzzing with people, all dressed in luxurious looking clothing; loose and flowing garments that resembled Magdalena's mother's typical garb. Perhaps she influenced the style of Karnak back when she was still there?

A cute little redhead with glasses and a clipboard scuttled up to Adrian and started talking immediately: "Orange stock is up, gas is down, another corporate leader committed suicide and your green tea is in your office."

"Thank you Mariana." The blond smiled formally as the girl bowed vaguely and scuttled off.

Adrian's eyes shifted towards Magdalena and lost the glossy, corporate haze, glazing over with affection and almost fatherly intentions, "Come. There is a lot that I have to show you."


	4. The Penumbral Prelude

Wow, it's been a LONG time... I'm so sorry, you guys. I've been daydreaming more than writing~ But now that I've gotten past most of the... "Time Passing" sections, these should come out more often ^^

Thank you for waiting~! Enjoy!

_**Chapter 4**_

_**The Penumbral Prelude**_

_**_____________________________________________________**_

A snowflake lands on the tip of Magdalena's nose. She goes cross-eyed to look down at it as she attempts to get her tongue up to lick it off. But she quickly flicks her tongue back in as a couple Karnak board members walk by. They smile formally, as does she. The clock strikes noon on March 21st, 1990. Magdalena returns to her room from her spot on the roof of the Rapture building of the, now city, of Karnak. The Rapture building was created for the more important people of Karnak, whilst the Felicity building was for the normal, working residents. She took off her thick coat and carefully placed it in the closet.

Adrian hadn't only gotten her a tutor two years ago; he got her a lifestyle manager. That woman, whom she called Nana, taught her composure, formality, and poise. But even after two years, she wasn't the perfect student. She still got her forks mixed up at formal dinner parties, but she never gave that away. In fact, the men and women at the parties usually found her endearing. And she played the role of Adrian's perfect little adopted daughter. She was the icing to the cake of his world peace plan. Everyone found it so kind of Adrian Veidt to take in a poor, sweet little girl who had lost her arm in the explosions, and make her into a perfect young woman. Though, she was hardly young anymore, being a 24 year old. But comparatively to the rest of the members of the Karnak board and their guests, she was quite young.

Adrian himself was beyond proud of her. When she had started learning how to use her left arm, she had endured many breakdowns about how slowly she was progressing. But frequent calls from Sam and Sandra had managed to calm her down, though Adrian was beginning to expect that the young girl had a knack for panic attacks. And after a while, when she calmed down and started taking things more seriously, she blossomed. Magdalena adopted Adrian's cold, conservative smiles and his confident walk. She embraced the style of Karnak and became one of its most loved members.

But she couldn't help feeling like a poster girl.

Putting on a purple silk robe, Magdalena turned and stared at herself in the mirror. She had black rings of kohl around her eyes, and a small steel barbell adorned her navel. She fingered the polished metal and smiled faintly. Navel piercings were in style, and it was her job to keep up with the times. Her previously frizzy and unkempt tresses were beautiful, shiny and smooth from constant hair treatments. Her skin was buttery and clear, but still an almost sickly shade of pale. Adrian insisted that she should get a tan, but she didn't want one. Her finger and toenails were always kept short and painted, and her eyebrows were always plucked to create gorgeous, light brown aches over her bright green eyes. She had gotten eye surgery, so now she didn't need the big, clunky glasses always pressing down on the bridge of her nose.

She felt like she was lying to her own reflection. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a beautiful, smiling businesswoman whose dreams had all come true. But inside, she felt like a liar and a cheater. There were plenty of other women whose natural beauty had been overlooked for the fanciful prima donnas that could acquire enough money in order to do themselves up.

Magdalena chuckled to herself, "Dear god, Rorschach would despise me..."

It was his birthday that day. The single day out of the entire year that she allowed herself to think about him. Under her bed was a box of Rorschach memorabilia, and she pulled it out and opened it. Inside it were his hat, his journal and all the journal scrapings that Adrian had gotten for her birthday, almost every article on his whereabouts, and his grappling gun that the police had taken and sent to forensics in New Jersey the day before the explosion.

Magdalena swooped over to her door and locked it. She was allowed to lock her door on only that day, and she relished the silence in being solitary. Sitting on her overly plush bed, she opened the journal and delved into it's depths, loving the language, the scribbled, raw writing, and...

She smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek. He had written about her in the end... A sentence in the journal read:

"_However, hope that Daniel and Brygida make it out to tell the story that I may not be able to..."_

And then went on to his, now famous, final words about walking into the darkness. She had read the passage at least a couple dozen times, and could recite it perfectly. She wanted to make it into a song, or at least have some kind of inspiration from it to create a song. But she could never bring herself to write the words down elsewhere. They were perfect on the page that he wrote them on.

Pulling out the grappling gun, Magdalena bit her tongue and shot it at her coat rack. It fell to the floor, a large _crack_ issuing forth as it broke on the floor. She laughed; that was the fourth she had broken that year. Adrian insisted on making them out of synthetic wood, which was basically just a loose conjunction of carbon atoms and quite breakable. It was almost her guilty pleasure to break the things while everyone else in the building treated them like they were godsends.

Retracting the grappling gun, she placed it back into the box as a mother would her child. She pulled out the hat and sighed, placing it on her head as she always did, and then sliding it down to cover her face as she breathed in the scent of flowers and mothballs. It wasn't Rorschach's smell, and though she was very glad, at the same time, she wanted his smell at the very least to still be there. But it wasn't. So she didn't dwell on the thought long as she began to talk.

"And yet again, it's your birthday, Walter... You would be how old today? 50-ish? God you're old... I wasn't even born when you were actively fighting crime as a 20 or 30 year old. No wonder I thought you were so smart compared to all the guys I knew; you're an old man. But Adrian is around a year older than you, is he not? All you guys, you're all old~" She chuckled, "Don't take that as an insult, though. I like that you're all older men. Makes you distinguished and intelligent. If you were my age, I'd probably dislike you... You'd probably dislike me back, though. We wouldn't have ever met each other... Well, we might have met, but we would have blown each other off and gone on our merry ways without thinking that maybe... We could have fallen in love. Had kids. Or just had one night of conversation, seen each other in a restaurant and talked past closing time... and then moved on. But, I'm rambling. Happy birthday Walter Kovacs. Happy birthday Rorschach."

She smiled, and with her eyes closed she breathed the air in the hat one last time before sitting up and placing it back in the box, "Happy birthday..."

_______________________________________________________

The abundance of paper in Rorschach's new journal served him well, as his time on the strange planet was spent writing and drawing and contemplating. He had no idea how much time had passed, nor did it matter anymore. He slept when he was tired, Jon created something for him when he was hungry, and it didn't matter if he showered or not because it seemed that planet didn't take smell into account. Dr. Manhattan's child project had returned seconds after Rorschach had named his 113th star, Moma, after the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

The young girl had grown into a young woman, with long, green, grassy hair and a figure like a coke bottle. Her face had turned to stone, and she didn't smile when Jon approached her. Like a curious child the blue man looked over her for flaws, changes and differences. His Mona Lisa smile stayed intact the whole time, as she did not move. Rorschach noticed her eyes the most, while Dr. Manhattan looked at her on a subatomic level. Her eyes had previously been muddy brown in their entirety, a childish glimmer unmistakable in them. But now they were clear as glass, glassy like the look of a person as close to death as you can get before the final departure.

Rorschach had seen that look many times, in both the eyes of his enemies and the eyes of the victims. And this girl was a victim of fate; of Dr. Manhattan's insatiable taste for perfection. She looked incapable of tears.

"Carbon-12?" Dr. Manhattan said slowly, "Can you understand me?"

"Unfortunately." She replied, voice like slick clay, "I did not think that you would actually leave me alone."

"I am sorry." He said, putting his hand in between her shoulder blades, "It was an experiment. You must understand that I had no intention of forgetting you."

"I understand." The girl blinked, her eyelids clear and tinted green. She looked at Rorschach, who stood a good three inches under her. She attempted a smile, but only came out with a half of a grimace.

Jon took Carbon-12 under his arm and asked her if she needed anything. She replied that she wanted to sleep, and he manifested a bed for her. The young woman stepped absentmindedly into the plush, out of place looking bed and laid down, almost immediately falling asleep. She looked the most tortured whilst asleep. It was common knowledge that all social and personal barriers were let down when a person fell asleep; it seemed the same with this ethereal creature. She looked like a child who had been left alone at a carnival, without a balloon or a stuffed animal for company.

And for the first time, Rorschach regretted what he had helped to do. This girl had been left alone because of flimsy curiosity, and she should have grown up with a father...

"She is quite beautiful." Jon said, ignorant to the pain he had caused.

Rorschach glowered, "No she isn't..."

"Why do you say that, Rorschach?"

"Girl has been broken by harsh, unforgiving world. Made a mistake. Should have grown up... more normal."

Jon looked vaguely confused, "But I thought you said—"

"Said wrong. And I am sorry... for what happened to her. Will probably hate me for it."

"Why would she hate you?"

Rorschach looked at Jon, "Easy to hate the person who made you what you are, if what you are isn't what you wanted to be. Easy to hate in general."

Jon looked visibly crestfallen as he looked at the young girl's sleeping form and saw nothing but a mass of atoms and chemical bonds. He did not see the expression on her face or the way her hands clenched and unclenched. He looked back at Rorschach, who started to scribble away in his new journal. Jon was glad that Rorschach was there. He would have never been able to decipher any of what was going on if he weren't present.

"Do you think she could... love me?" Jon asked.

"..." Rorschach could only answer with another question:

"Could you love her?"

Rorschach watched as Jon's face reflected his severely slowed down thinking process. He stood up and walked to sit at the creation's side, his fingers lingering over her face as she breathed. Though they were creator and created, there was no connection. She had been left alone, and they had nothing in common. While Jon was tested and roped along with the government, she was all stars and loneliness.

Which was why Dr. Manhattan decided that she did not belong in his world, and destroyed her.

Rorschach winced as he watched her disappear, and he could only write...

'_However cruel humans may be, however unfair their judgments, and however accentuated above all other species... At least humans are aware of their own savagery.'_

_____________________________________________________

The two-year-old Milo babbled at his new little sister as she slept peacefully in her pink, recycled plastic crib. Milo had started talking at a relatively early age, and he couldn't seem to get enough of it. Entire sentences of baby talk/English flowed from his mouth at every chance he got, but the family soon became used to it and just listened, nodded, and smiled.

Sandra had just had her second child, a little girl they named Lux. She was born with blond hair, relieving both her parents, as no one would question her hair color in accordance to their own. On the other hand, Milo had his mother's thick, luscious chocolate brown hair, and whenever Sandra looked at him she saw her father. She expected him to take up cigars by age 5.

Sandra walked into Lux's room and smiled, picking Milo up, "Now now baby, lets let your sister sleep..." An uncommonly deep sigh came from her child's body, and it slightly startled her. Ignoring it, she brought the little boy out to the living room, where her husband sat, halfway asleep. She put Milo on the couch next to him, who subsequently tackled his father. Sam jumped and started laughing, picking his son up and throwing him upwards, the tiny boy laughing hysterically. Sandra watched with unbridled pleasure; she felt as if her dreams had come true.

The phone rang.

She scurried to pick it up as Sam fell back onto the couch, Milo whining at the lack of enthusiasm from his father.

Sandra laughed and picked up the phone, "He-hello?"

"_Sandra... It's Magdalena."_

The blond's eyes widened slightly, and she clutched the phone with both hands, "Lena...? It's been weeks! How are you, my love?"

"_I'm really good... I'm um, coming back to live in New York in a couple days. I got a job in a club, and Adrian got me my own house right near Veidt Gardens... I'm ready to come home."_

Sandra's eyes welled up with happy tears, "Oh I'm so happy for you...! Sam and Milo will be so happy!"

From the other end, Sandra heard Magdalena's soft, composed voice bubble into a chuckle, _"I should hope so. I'll call you when I get into town, alright?"_

"Of course... I'll talk to you then, Lena." Sandra smiled and hung up the phone, running off to tell her husband the news...


	5. Inner Epilogue

... Well, it's been quite a while! I wonder if anyone's still interested. Well, this chapter SHOULD be the big moment that most of you were looking for, so I hope you guys read this far at least!

I can see that the fandom has grown QUITE a bit since I started writing Nigh Infernal... It's so strange. I remember back in '06 when it was just that one story. I think it was Asymmetry? I think that was the one... Now it's got 600+ stories! Wow... That's amazing.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

_**Chapter 5**_

_**Inner Epilogue: Transition Into The Rough**_

"Oh god, _Walter..."_ Magdalena moaned, gripping her lover's back with her one hand. The man stopped and looked at the 29 year old woman.

"Lena, my parents didn't name me _Walter, _they named me _Wally._" The brunette man smiled and stroked his lover's hair, "Remember?"

The woman smiled back, "Of course I remember... I just think that it's silly for parents to give their children nicknames instead of full names." The moment of passion gone, she pushed him off of her and sighed, "Can't you just let me get away with it for once?"

Wally gave her a Cheshire grin and pulled something from the bedside drawer, "We can role play again if you want." He pulled the Rorschach mask over his head and tickled her stomach in an attempt to get a giggle from the tightly withdrawn woman he knew to be Magdalena Veidt.

All she did was take the mask from him and put it back in the drawer, "Oh stop... Come on, it's time to get up Mr. CEO." She kissed Wally's forehead, got out of bed and threw open the curtains to the new day. Wally hissed and hid under the covers, wanting Magdalena to join him and maybe cuddle for a few more moments before work... But she wandered into the kitchen to make them some coffee instead.

For a year and a half, Wally had attempted to open Magdalena up from the cold, icy shell that Adrian Veidt had bestowed upon her. The first time she smiled at him was when he yelled at a man for trying to sneak a peek up her skirt. And she didn't laugh at his jokes until a month after that. Two months later, he asked her on a date and she accepted. They had been together ever since. But Wally couldn't help but get the feeling that Magdalena was always hiding something from him. Whenever she would go out onto her balcony, it was like she was in a trance. She would stare at the stars with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, always with a single cube of sugar in it. Wally thought it disgustingly sweet, and apparently she did too.

She never drank the hot chocolate.

A slightly dejected Wally Tomlinson walked into the kitchen to find his girlfriend reading the April 21st, 1995 _Frontiersman_. He grimaced a little and poured himself his own cup of coffee, "You know, I hear that right wing crap's bad for your soul."

"Well coffee is bad for your jitters, but I'm not telling you to stop drinking it."

Wally rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his coffee. He kissed his girlfriend on the cheek, "I love you, Lena."

She just smiled and waved.

Wally knew that he would crack her icy shell.

If her boyfriend couldn't, then who could?

* * *

Dr. Manhattan's perfected creations were a beautiful woman, completely translucent and the color of his own eyes, forever warping and spinning, and a young man, the color of dark matter; he had no face, no hair, and no voice. He communicated through Dr. Manhattan's own version of sign language: one that humans had no way of learning or understanding.

As Dr. Manhattan's questions dwindled, Rorschach felt his assistance less and less needed, as his understanding was limited to the single brain he had. And he felt weaker now that he wasn't fighting crime. He exercised every day, ran and stretched and tired himself out until just before he lost consciousness, but he still felt weaker.

Perhaps it was because his purpose on Jon's new planet was almost gone.

One day, he asked Dr Manhattan:

"Am I going to die here?"

The blue man looked away from his creations and towards Rorschach, "Why would you ask me that?"

Rorschach looked at his gloves that hadn't changed since he had gotten to the strange planet, "Feel like that's the next place for me... Weakness is setting in. After weakness comes death."

"I am not surprised. This planet does not seem to support Adrian's product in your system. I am surprised that you have lasted this long with almost no help from me."

A sudden confusion overwhelmed the masked vigilante, "What does that mean?"

Jon smiled faintly at Rorschach, "That is right, I have not told you yet." The blue man stood up and manifested a bottle of _Nostalgia_ in his hand, "A while ago, Adrian came to me and asked me if there was a way to grant humans immortality, and if not that, youth and strength for as long as they were alive." He uncorked the bottle, "And I gave him the recipe for this perfume. The sweet and dilute smell was merely a side effect; it was originally created to be a youth serum for those who deserved it. Adrian released it to the public as an experiment." Dr. Manhattan handed the uncorked bottle to Rorschach, "And you were a success."

"... Nostalgia a youth serum. More innuendos than initially thought." Rorschach growled.

"Your strength was and still is your own, Rorschach." Jon explained, "But this serum has extended both your lifetime and your brawn."

Rorschach stared at the bottle and couldn't say anything. Adrian had given him a life extending serum before any of the problems between them had started... Perhaps Veidt thought that he could control his own creation.

But Rorschach was no one's creation.

"Send me back, Dr. Manhattan." He said, pocking the bottle, "Not needed here anymore."

"You know Rorschach, this planet we are on could be going the opposite direction that Earth is, or worse. You could return to the 1500's, or to dead space... And I would not be able to help you after that."

"Willing to take that risk."

Dr. Manhattan smiled, "I know you are."

The translucent girl and the dark matter boy look over to the only human they would ever know, and waved. The man smiled and the mask did nothing.

"Goodbye, Rorschach."

"Goodbye Jon."

**A falling sensation overcame them...**

* * *

Magdalena gasped slightly as she was taken by vertigo and cracked her heel on the edge of the stage. It was 10:30 at night at **The Blue Angel**, the Cabaret bar she sang at on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from 3 to 11. She had all but lost her operatic voice over the years she had been back in New York, and now sang dark cabaret to pass the time. Though Adrian paid for everything she would ever own, she wanted to do something to use up time and make her feel like her own woman again. So in 1992, she got a job at the Blue Angel and made the friends she never thought she would have. She met her boyfriend there, who just happened to have an amputee fetish. And she had never been happier.

A month had passed since her annual celebration of Walter Kovacs' birthday. And even though that day was supposed to be her saddest and most sacred of days, she felt less inclined to go through with it that year. She still did it, but she felt like she didn't have anything more to say to Rorschach. Maybe she was finally moving on from him...

"Are you alright, Maggie?" A fellow Polish girl, Lidia, asked Magdalena.

The woman smiled faintly, "Yes, I'm fine..." She took off he shoes and wandered over to the bar, where her good friend Mischa bartended, "Mischa, you wouldn't happen to have any glue on you, would you?"

The large Russian woman pursed her lips and ducked under the bar for a moment. Magdalena blinked a couple times before Mischa reappeared with a tube of super glue and a kind smile, "Giff me your shoe, Maggie."

Magdalena set the broken shoe on the bar table and yawned, taking a bottle of vodka and filling a decently sized cup half full with it. As Mischa glued the heel back onto the shoe, she shook her head, "You know, alcoholism is a disease."

"That's just what they want you to believe." Maggie said into her cup, taking a quick swig and sighing. She looked up on the stage, where her band improvised without her. There were few customers in that day, so it didn't matter much that she wasn't singing. One regular customer, an older woman with dark green hair and a bullring in her nose, drank her Mint Julip with slow appreciation; her parole officer only allowed her to have one or two a night.

"You know Bertha, next time we can give you a bigger cup..." Maggie said, sipping her own drink. The woman looked at Maggie and smiled sideways; when Bertha was in prison, an inmate slashed her mouth open with a butter knife. She only had half her tongue left.

As 11 o'clock rolled around, Maggie's alcohol consumption was reaching critical limits. Mischa cut her off just before she started falling over, and offered to call her a cab. But Maggie declined, and said that she would walk home. Mischa draped the woman's black cloak over her shoulders for her, and the one armed woman walked out of the bar; her vision fuzzy and her judgment all the more clear.

"_I'm siiiingin' in the rain... Just siiiingin' in the rain! What a glooorious feeeeling I'm haaaappy again..." _She slurred mildly as it began to drizzle. For some reason, the climate in New York had changed after the explosions, and had become more temperate. Meanwhile, in California, they got snow on occasion in Los Angeles.

Maggie stepped off the curb with half her foot, and succeeded in weakening her already weak shoe heel, and twisting her ankle. She laughed slightly and rolled back onto the sidewalk, taking off her heel and hopping towards the wall. She sighed and looked up at the sky, shimmering with stars and blotched with dark rain clouds. It was true; she was happy. Nothing was missing from her life. Sure she just hurt her ankle, but why worry about a minor sprain when her life was as close to perfect as she had imagined when she was younger?

She wasn't the little girl she thought she would be all her life; that pathetic little thing that looked for the affection of a conservative hobo to make her feel better... It was easier for her to live with herself now that he was gone.

Luckily enough, she was moments away from home, and managed to get in without problems. She fell onto the couch and instantly fell asleep.

Life was good...

* * *

"But I'm not tired, daddy..." The 7-year-old Milo whined, yawning soon afterwards.

Sam Hollis chuckled and kissed his son's forehead, "If you don't go to sleep now, I'll have to get mommy, and you know how she is on Mondays..."

Milo's face twisted into something of a sourpuss face, and threw the covers over his head, exaggerating snores. His father laughed, "Goodnight, Milo..." And closed the door. He sighed and stretched, his slight beer belly jiggling as he dropped his arms lazily. A sudden rush of air from a nearby window caught him off guard. He always closed the windows at night...

Grabbing his son's new aluminum baseball bat, he peeked out the window... And then re-closed it.

And then the door was kicked in.

Jumping in surprise, Sam instinctively yelled, "Dammit Rorschach, I told yo--..." And then he considered himself silly. Attempting to still look threatening, he brought the bat up to his shoulder and curled his lip at the intruder, who was wearing...

A brown trenchcoat...

Purple pants...

... Mask.

And his heart hurt. Angry and in pain, he yelled, "You know, the Rorschach fashion shock died a year ago! Now it's all Adrian all the time, get with the times, you asshole. And Rorschach wasn't a robber; you drew a stupid parallel with the wrong person, buddy!"

"_... Hurm. Good to see you too, Daniel."_

"Don't you pull that shit on me man, I'll—" And then what the man said, registered, "I'll... Who... Who are you? What the fu...?"

The man removed his mask... And the scruffy looking redhead looked at the man who used to be Daniel Dreiberg. Sam Hollis dropped the aluminum bat with a loud **clank**, and took a step towards the man that had just kicked open his door. And with a burst of adrenaline, his arms were around the man, and tears were staining his cheeks, and loud sobs were heard blocks down, and Daniel Dreiberg was suddenly back.

"You were dead..." He squeezed out, his arm tightening around the redhead.

"_No. Just transported to a different dimension. Been staying with Manhattan."_ Rorschach's hand patted Daniel's back, _"Couldn't really contact you from different dimension..."_

Daniel laughed and sniffled, finally releasing the man, "It's fine, it's fine... You look as young as you were when you die--... Um, left."

"_What year is it?"_ Rorschach asked, finally noticing the pictures on the mantle.

"1995. Adrian's done some major global remodeling; it looks like his plan's... actually been working." Daniel crossed his arms, "For how _long_ it will work, I'm not sure... But it's been holding."

"_Hurm."_ Rorschach stiffened slightly, _"Have a family now. Two kids?"_

Daniel nodded proudly, "The boy's name is Milo; he's seven. And the little girl is Lux, she's five now. Sandra... _Laurie_ and I have been together ever since... The incident at Karnak."

Rorschach stared at the pictures on the mantle. Laurie was holding the two kids on her lap, giving the little boy a kiss on the cheek as the little girl laughed at her brother's horrified expression. A beautiful black and white photo of Laurie just after the birth of her daughter was in the center of the entire piece; you could see the sweat drops on Laurie's forehead and the sparkle in her eye as she stared down at Lux.

"_Where is... Laurie?"_ Rorschach asked tentatively.

"She went out with some friends tonight." Daniel replied, putting the bat back in the corner, "She was supposed to meet Magdalena, but she had to work tonight."

"_... You mean Brigida."_ Rorschach mumbled.

"I see you've found her too..." Daniel crossed his arms, "She's really gotten the hang of having only one arm... People really seem to like her for it. Adds to her personality."

"_Abomination..."_

Daniel raised an eyebrow, "Why would you say that? She's never been more beautiful; you should see her. She's all grown up..."

"_Not her... What happened to her. Shouldn't have..."_ It was Rorschach's turn to cross his arms, _"Anything that tries to touch me ends up getting hurt."_

"I dunno, man..." Daniel smiled, "I turned out pretty well, and we were close..." At the words "Were close", Daniel's face fell slightly, and he added, "It's been years, Rorschach... Walter. I'd like to catch up... If that's all right."

"_... Sure. Need to stop dying your hair that hideous color. Makes you look... fat."_ Rorschach said, attempting comedy.

Daniel laughed, "I _am _fat, Walter."

* * *

"I know Sandra, I'm so sorry..." Magdalena said, on her way to pick up Milo and Lux, "But I swear to god I'll make it up to you. Listen, I'll take the kids to my house, treat them to some sweets, and Sam can pick them up while we go out and do something, alright?"

She pulled up to the small school on the corner as Sandra vocalized her gratitude, and they said goodbye and hung up. The two kids stood on the corner and waited for their aunt to come. Since the incident, the city of New York especially had gotten a lot safer, and it wasn't unheard of for small kids to venture out on their own.

As Lux saw Magdalena coming down the street, she squealed, dropping all of her things and latching herself onto the woman's leg, "Auntie Lena!!"

She laughed, "Hey there Luxy, you ready to go get some ice cream?"

"Mm-hm!" She nodded her head, turned and yelled, "Milo we're getting ice cream!!"

Milo, determined to show how big he was, picked up his and his sister's things and dragged them all over to the car. Magdalena smiled, "What a strong boy!" She kissed the top of his head, "Thank you sweetheart. Now, get in the car, the ice cream won't eat itself!"

The two kids piled themselves into the car and they left.

At Magdalena's house, the two kids' faces flickered in the darkness as they watched a Disney movie. Magdalena was in the kitchen, cleaning up after an attempted meal following the ice cream trip. It was somewhat failed, seeing as the two of them were "full" after the ice cream, but she decided she would save it for another time. She walked into the living room, where Lux was fast asleep and Milo was slowing nodding off. Shaking her head, Magdalena looked at the clock.

9:52.

Sam should have picked them up by then...

Sighing, Magdalena scooped up Lux with her one arm and carried her into her bedroom. Luckily, the girl was relatively small, and fit almost perfectly in the crook of Magdalena's arm. She returned to the living room and led Milo, who was almost asleep, into the room as well, tucking him in next to his sister. She kissed both their foreheads, wished a good night and sweet dreams, and closed the door.

She half-angrily dialed Sam's number and waited as the phone rang...

And rang...

And rang...

And finally went to voicemail.

"_This is the Hollis residence. Leave a message."_

"Dammit Sam, this is the second time this week, sixth time this month you've left your kids with me. Get your shit together. I can't take them to school all the time... Oh, and I have some leftovers for you. Wake up early tomorrow, come pick them up, and take them to school, or else they're getting a day off because I _say so_. Bye." She hung up. Taking out a fancy looking glass bottle from the cabinet above the sink, Magdalena poured herself a glass of cranberry vodka, and sat on the couch. She changed the channel aimlessly, eyes glassy, as she wondered what Wally was doing...

There was a knock on the door.

Hoping that karma was on her side, she ambled to the door, a crooked smile on her face. Opening it, she saw someone in a Rorschach outfit, hands stuffed into... _his_ pockets, this person had no breasts so she could only assume it was a _he_. Grimacing snarkily, she said, "You do know that the Rorschach fashion spark shorted out about a year ago, right? _Veidt purple_ is the new black."

When the person, no taller than she was without shoes on, didn't respond, she frowned, "I don't know who you are, but please get off my doorstep. I just got my boyfriend to fall asleep; he's a football player, and a very light sleeper."

"_Boyfriend is a rich scumbag with amputee fetish. And not here."_ The man said in a painfully familiar tone as he stepped inside.

A horrid feeling overcame Magdalena as she picked up the nearest object, luckily a fire poker, and held it towards the intruder, "Who the _fuck_ are you and what do you want? Money? My boyfriend's job?"

"_No..."_ The man took a step closer; Magdalena a step back.

"Stuff? I have a lot of really valuable paintings that I don't really give a shit about, if you want them..." A whiney, desperate whisper came into Magdalena's previously confident tone, as she felt her weak ankles begin to shake.

"_Don't want paintings."_ The man replied, taking a look around the room without taking his eyes off of Magdalena, _"Don't need material objects. Grew out of them."_

"Then what do you want?!" Magdalena cried, feeling her muscles begin to ache under the weight of the fire poker. The man walked right up to her and tore the fire poker from her hand. Without any means of defense, and due to the intense strength of the intruder, Magdalena braced herself for a beating, shutting her eyes tightly and holding her fist in front of her face...

"_Not going to hurt you, Brygida."_

Magdalena opened one eye, "Who's that?" ... It took her a moment to realize that that was _her_ name. From a very long time ago...

"... Who _are _you?" She murmured, liberating herself from her defensive position, "How do you know who I am?"

"_Hurm... Forgot me already?"_

Magdalena's jaw tightened, and she muttered, "You must have done some pretty extensive research on Rorschach... But I'm not falling for it. He's _dead_, and whoever you are... You're just digging your fingers into old wounds. I don't know why, and I don't want to know why... So please, for the love of _god_, just leave me alone..."

"_... Give me my hat and I'll leave."_

"... Take off your mask."

"_Thought you wanted me to leave."_

"Just take off your mask." Magdalena's voice cracked.

Clenching and unclenching his gloved fist, the man reached behind his head and pulled the mask down from the top of his head. A familiar crop of bright red hair made tears begin to drip down Magdalena's chin. A freckled cheek and muddy brown eyes choked the sob welling up in her throat, and finally, the thin scowl left the woman shaking.

"Believe me now?" Walter said.

As soon as the words left his lips, one arm was tightly around his neck, the sobbing woman pressing herself up against him as tightly as she could. Bristling, Walter chastely patted her back as she cried. Her tight, uppity hiccups degenerated into wet sobs as her arm loosened and her knees almost gave out from under her. Walter caught her arm before she fell to the floor. She was smiling.

"I can't believe you're alive..." She murmured, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks as she grinned.

"Been living with Manhattan... In space somewhere." He let her go as she righted herself she brushed the tears from her eyes, "Had lots of time to... think."

Magdalena nodded, "I can see that..." She couldn't stop smiling, "Why did you decide to come back _now...?"_

"Lost purpose on Manhattan's planet." He replied, looking around the house, "Decided I would give Earth a try again..." He glanced at her, "You've changed."

Magdalena nodded, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "I'm not the child you knew, Rorschach... When I lost my arm, it was the end of my childhood. It was um... It was really hard dealing with everything that happened. Most of my friends died, my father died... My mother is still alive, but..." She sighed, "Let me get you something to drink. Sit down, please."

Walter shook his head, "Can't stay long. Daniel wants to talk about... me."

Magdalena felt her heart jolt in fear, "W-well, don't be a stranger!" She felt her eyes well up again, "Just _knowing_ that you're alive isn't nearly enough..."

"Don't cry again..." He grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking away, "Will visit... Promise."

Magdalena smiled again and hugged the upper part of his arm, "I'll go get your hat." She ran off into the next room while Walter stood there, a little bewildered. Who knew that anyone could miss him, other than Daniel, so much... Magdalena came back out, and after handing him his hat, watched as he pulled the mask back on, put on the hat, and waved a little, walking out of her house.

This time, it was Brygida who cried.


	6. The Descent

Hey guys; I've been parted from this story for a little more than a year now, and I think it's time I take measures to finish it. I've had ideas for this story for ages, and they need to be written down. I hope to finish this story soon.

I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but I hope whoever's still paying attention will enjoy it.

_**Chapter 6**_

_**The Descent**_

Magdalena spent the next few days in a daze. She spent her days staring into space, and her nights in her pillow. When she worked, her normally dark, low tambour was replaced with a dreamy, flighty whisper of a voice. She didn't really talk to many people, save Wally. Wally himself was completely confused; he had no idea what had happened to her, nor would she tell him. A small, self-indulgent smile had appeared on her lips. She had smiled at Wally like that before, but there was something more to it this time: it was genuine. She usually only smiled at him like that when she wanted to humor him.

That Friday night was the couple's 18-month anniversary, and Wally was planning something fantastic for his girlfriend. She would come home from work, exhausted and strangely happy as she had for the past few days, and he would treat her to a beautiful dinner, a haphazardly put together spa treatment, and a new, Egyptian silk comforter. He had been planning it for months. The past few anniversaries had been kind of fun, but their year and a half was something that he really wanted to make special. Especially with her in this weird, otherworldly mood, he wanted to bring her back to him.

He just hoped his hard work would pay off...

The clock turned 11 o'clock PM, and Magdalena downed one last shot before tripping out the door. Walking home drunk was much more fun than walking home sober, considering she was blocks within home. Singing off-key and with no real vocal line, she kicked at the ground and swung her arms around. She coughed a little, a group of kids smoking on the corner as she turned. She hadn't directly seen Rorschach since he encountered her at her home days ago, but she had seen him run out as she was dropping off Milo and Lux at Sam and Sandra's house. She couldn't help but wonder when he was planning on seeing her again...

Something caught her eye as she was passing by an alley. Perhaps it was just because she was so drunk, but she decided to go _check it out_. There wasn't supposed to be any more crime in Adrian's perfect world, but unfortunately, Adrian hadn't been made aware of the fact that even his perfect world would start to disintegrate.

A paranoid schizophrenic by the name of Randolph Hines had managed to escape from the center where he was held, and the only thing he could think of was how he was going to get back at society. One of his options was staring blankly back at him from the floor, guts spilled open on the floor. Unable to look into the eyes of the recently deceased woman, he decided that the most forward and easiest solution would be to permanently remove them. So, the most viable option being consumption, he gouged out the dead woman's eyes and placed them in his mouth...

Magdalena watched all this in horror, her hand over her mouth, trying not to scream. She had thought that all that was done with... Adrian had _promised _that there would be no more bloodshed, but there it was in front of her. The man didn't seem to have noticed her yet, so she tried slowly backing out of the alley...

Unfortunately, her foot caught on a tin can.

Like a vulture at the kill, Hines looked up, clearly irritated by the fact that he was disturbed in his social statement and artistry.

Magdalena took to her heels, digging her nails into her palm to snap herself out of the drunkenness. Hines, a relatively large man, lumbered after her, but only after stomaching the eyes, of course. No one liked a messy eater.

Sam Hollis patted Rorschach's back as the masked man shoved his hands in his pockets, _"Thanks for the information, Daniel..."_

"Of course, Rorschach. I don't know _what_ the drug is, or who's peddling it, but I've heard from a bunch of concerned parents about some kid dealing drugs to some of the older students at Milo's school. Like I said, if anything's going on, Magdalena should know. She's got friends strung out on every kind of drug out there." Sam answered, smiling, "Next time, you can come over just because you want to."

"_Hurm... Will think about it."_ Under the mask, Walter was trying to smile.

"Maggie should be getting home about now. If you hurry, she'll still be awake. I know you like to be punctual about these kinds of things. Oh!" Sam grabbed a scarf off the door side table, "She left this here earlier. I was meaning to return it to her, but since you're going over there anyway..."

"_Fine. Will take it to her." _Rorschach grabbed the scarf and shoved into one of his pockets, _"Be seeing you, Daniel."_

"Same to you, man. I'm really glad that you're back..." Sam waved, gave a last smile, and closed the door.

But Rorschach wasn't so sure that he was glad to be back... Shaking it off, the vigilante hid in the shadows on instinct and hurried to the singer's house. An odd, musky smell came from the door cracks, and Rorschach peeked into one of the windows. The boyfriend, Wally, was sitting in the living room, a couple scented candles lit as he stared absentmindedly out the window. Explained the smell. Shaking his head, Rorschach took up residency on the roof and waited for...

Magdalena suddenly turned the corner to her house and, fumbling madly with her keys, dropped them as a particularly frightening individual rounded the corner right after her. Banging on the door, she cried for help. Though, Wally didn't seem to hear her as he blasted music. Magdalena pressed her back up against her door as the crazed man bumbled towards her, drooling.

Rorschach dropped from the roof, planting his foot into the man's face. Hines squealed like a pig, unable to understand why he had been attacked. Was he not allowed to confront the woman that ruined his moment? Hines fell to the ground, as Rorschach stepped from his face. He rolled him over, grabbed his hair, opened his mouth, and shoved his open mouth onto the edge of the sidewalk. Hines' tongue covered the length of the curb, tasting things he probably never wanted to. He felt something at the back of his head, and was about to get up—

Magdalena quickly looked away as Rorschach rammed his foot into Hines' head and curb stomped him once or twice. Not dead but extremely injured, Hines laid there and bled out as Rorschach turned and intercepted Magdalena at the door. She refused to look at Rorschach's handiwork, and instead just tried to push past him to her door, without saying anything.

"_Need a favor."_ Rorschach said, stepping in front of the door so that Magdalena couldn't open it, _"Before you go inside."_

"What?" She mumbled, her hands shaking as she tried to push Rorschach out of the way. This wasn't _quite_ the reunion she had imagined.

Rorschach grabbed Magdalena's shoulder, pushing her back without hurting her, _"Drugs being peddled at local school. Drugs in red glass bottles. Know anything about them?"_

Magdalena stopped for a moment and looked at Rorschach, "In glass bottles...? Tiny glass bottles with a green ribbon tied at the top?"

Rorschach nodded.

Magdalena closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, "Shit... Look, this is going to take a while, you might as well come inside..." She looked back at Randolph, who had stopped squirming and just lay there, breathing heavily, "But can you do something about him first? You have to understand… _That_ isn't something we see often anymore."

Rorschach nodded and went over to Randolph, grabbing one of his feet and starting to drag him somewhere. Sighing, Magdalena opened her door...

Wally grabbed her wrist, "Happy anniversary, my love..." He kissed her and pulled her inside, closing the door behind her. The music and smell in the air hit Magdalena like a train, and she felt a little woozy as her boyfriend pulled her inside. He sat he down on their couch, and without letting her talk, he pressed his finger to her lips, and sat behind her, beginning to massage her neck.

Sighing contently, Magdalena said reluctantly, "I'm sorry Wally, I can't do this right now..." She had just gotten her last word out when Rorschach, hands slightly bloodied, walked through the door. With an anxious nod, he turned and walked into the kitchen to wait for Magdalena.

Wally's gaze, once loving and excited, suddenly misted over with something along the lines of disbelief. He didn't know who that _person_ was, nor was he sure that he wanted to, but he knew that he was upset by unknown person's company. He stood up and touched his love's shoulder, and was surprised to find her shaking.

"What happened, Lena?" He asked quietly, a couple of his fingers just barely touching her shoulder blade.

"Nothing... I'll tell you later." She said, giving him a mild smile, "I need you to leave for now, Wally. My... friend and I, we have some things we need to talk about. I'm really sorry..." Taking his wrist with her one hand, Magdalena led her boyfriend outside, and slowly closed the door. Wally, upset and crestfallen, stuffed his hands in his pockets and, not seeing the traces of blood on the street curb in the darkness, stepped up onto the sidewalk and made his way home...

"Rorschach..." Magdalena said, setting her teakettle on the stove, "You may want to sit down for what I'm about to tell you."

"_Standing is fine. Should know by now that unnerving information does not affect me."_ He replied, scratching his scalp with the mask still on.

"... Oh, that reminds me. Wait here." She tiptoed out of the kitchen and out of sight into the hallway, and came back with a box. It was an old box, fairly worn, and looked particularly heavy. Magdalena opened it, and smiled.

"I've kept this for a long while... It's really old, but I figured..."

He took the initiative and took a couple things from the box: his grappling hook, his journal, and a couple newspaper clippings. After inspecting his grappling hook and finding it to be in good condition, he grumbled, and moved onto his journal. Flipping through the pages, he found that a couple pages had been torn out, specifically entries that were particularly hateful. The end pages were filled in, written by a hand that was not his own. He glanced at his female friend, whose expression had a meek and childish quality.

"I'm sorry... You were gone, and... You had left the last few pages blank, so I wrote to you... I hope you don't mind..." She said. Not replying, he went to the newspaper clippings, all of them entitled: "Rorschach's Ramblings". His entries had been rewritten, taken out of context and ridiculed, and that was not something that Rorschach could deal with. Balling his hands into fists, the vigilante lit the thick wad of newspaper on fire under the whistling teakettle, and threw them in the fireplace. He sifted through the box, and, not finding anything he wanted to keep, threw it into the fireplace. It lit up in an instant, and the sudden blaze brought burnt out pieces of wood back to life, and there was soon a roaring fire.

Magdalena poured herself a cup of tea and sat on the couch in front of the fire, "I didn't collect those to make you angry, you know..."

"_I know..._" Rorschach's voice came out in a strange, strained tone. His throat was tensed, almost as if he were about to cry. But Magdalena knew better than to think that. Rorschach didn't cry; he just got angrier.

"_Tell me about the drugs, Bridget."_ He said, an order cloaked in quiet.

She cleared her throat, still unused to her old name, "About seven years ago, everything that was used to make drugs was confiscated. Methamphetamine ingredients, normal household items, opium plants, all of it was taken, and destroyed accordingly. Even pot was eradicated. To this day, I do not know how they did it, but they did. So, for a couple years, the world went through a mass withdrawal. People died, tons of heroine and crack cocaine addicts littered the streets. But the government was quick to clean that up. The five years after that were peaceful, if not a little hard. Hospitals had to depend on other methods of painkilling since morphine was confiscated as well..." Magdalena scratched behind her ear, "But about two years ago, this new drug, called "Venus" on the street, showed up and took the dying drug market by storm. No one knew quite what it was, but it brought about one of the most intense highs, seemingly without a repercussion to be found other then general lethargy for a couple days afterwards." Magdalena struggled with her next words, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, "I uh... tried some, about a year ago. It was great, and yes, there were no side effects, but soon after, I found out what it was _made of_..."

Rorschach had been pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace through the entire story, but he paused and looked at the woman as her fiddling became more erratic. He stood in front of her, _"What is it made of?"_

"... The human adrenaline gland."

The two of them stood silent for a moment. Him looking at her bowed head, her staring at the floor. Her fiddling had stopped, and all one could hear was the crackle of the fire and soft breathing.

"_... Obtained how?"_ Rorschach asked once the shock of the moment ebbed away.

"... I don't know..." She answered, shaking her head, "The guy I got it from, really sweet guy, but he had gotten it from the person actually... _procuring_ the stuff first hand. I didn't want to ask him, so I put it from my mind. I haven't heard about it much since then; the people running the business are _really_ good at hiding... Did you say there were people dealing this drugs at _schools?_"

He nodded, _"Local high school official found the bottle on some sophomore. Kid was too strung out to understand that he was going to the police station."_

"Oh no..." Magdalena rubbed her eyes; "I should've told Adrian about this a long time ago..."

Rorschach bristled, _"Should've told Daniel and Laurie. Have kids in school."_

Magdalena glowered, "Okay fine, yes, I should have told them too. Are you going to berate me for global warming next?"

"_... No."_ He turned away and stared into the flames, _"World has changed since I left... Don't understand it anymore. Used to be cut and dry: good people in trouble, hurt the bad people and the good people are saved. But now... everyone considers himself or herself a good person, and they are throwing themselves away inside an unsteady, false peace. Haven't seen a street gang since I got back... Old Mafia headquarters now flower shops."_

Even though he stopped there, Magdalena knew what he would have said next:

_What am I supposed to do in this new world?_

Magdalena stood up and touched Rorschach's shoulder, and without getting a negative reaction, patted him and said, "You of all people know this better than anyone: evil will always coexist with good. Sometimes the lines do muddy, and it's hard to distinguish one from the other... But in the end, you'll know what to do." She smiled mildly and, taking her hand from his shoulder, removed her coat, "Tomorrow at work, I'll talk to one of the dealers. They usually hang out at the bar, if you want to talk to one of them. I'd suggest not wearing the mask though... _Rorschach_ has become something of a... comedic icon, despite facts and figures."

She saw his jaw tighten under the mask, and the leather of his gloves tense to near splitting, _"Now even Rorschach is laughed at..."_

"No, I... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought that up." Magdalena said, immediately regretting having said that.

"_Would have found out at some point. Will see you in a couple days."_ And he walked out.

Magdalena sighed, and scratched behind her ear again, drawing her hand back and finding blood under her nail. She had scratched so hard she broke the skin. Sighing again, she mumbled, _ "Now I could use Wally's anniversary thing..."_


End file.
